After the Days
by Vol lady
Summary: What if Nick and Heath arrived in Rimfire too late to keep Jarrod from killing Cass Hyatt?


AFTER THE DAYS

ONE

Jarrod saw nothing but the blinding rage, felt nothing but the fire inside that consumed all his senses, and he actually had no idea that he was drowning Cass Hyatt. He only wanted to do it, to have it done, to feel the man's dead body in his hands.

Someone grabbed him and spun him away hard. He came around with his gun drawn and pointed at the man who had seized him. "Get away from him!" he growled like some animal.

He scarcely realized it was his brother Nick standing between him and Cass Hyatt. He never knew that Sheriff Fain was ten feet behind him, about to draw his gun and shoot him in the back.

Nick calmly said, "You're gonna have to shoot through me to get to him, Jarrod."

Jarrod held the gun rock steady and pointed at his brother, despite what Nick said. They stared hard at each other, and the only other person on the street who was moving at all was Heath, who pulled Cass Hyatt out of the watering trough. Hyatt fell hard on the ground.

Neither Jarrod nor Nick noticed Heath sit down heavily on the boardwalk beside Hyatt and run his hand over his own face.

Then Heath said, "Hyatt's dead, Jarrod."

It was Nick who reacted, turning to look at Heath, oblivious now to the gun Jarrod had pointed at him. "Dead?" he all but whispered, his arms falling uselessly at his sides and the color washing out of his face.

Jarrod lowered the gun he was holding. The Sheriff never drew his own gun but quickly moved down and took Jarrod's away from him. Jarrod did not resist. His expression, full of fury and hatred a moment ago, was now only blank, but his body was as rigid as ever. There was no relief there, no anything, only a man who had just killed another.

"You're under arrest, Mr. Barkley," the Sheriff said. "Come on."

The Sheriff took Jarrod by the arm and led him away. Heath watched, but Nick didn't. He only sank down beside Heath and reached for Hyatt.

An older man came hurrying up. "I'm the doctor. Let me see him."

Nick and Heath both looked at the doctor's eyes, but there was no help for them there. He just checked Hyatt, then looked up at them and shook his head, saying over his shoulder to whoever was behind him to hear, "Get the undertaker."

Nick slumped, burying his face in his hands. Heath looked down the street to where the Sheriff was taking Jarrod through the jailhouse door. They didn't know what to say to each other. They couldn't move. They couldn't believe this was happening.

"If we'd only been a minute sooner," Nick groaned, exhausted. "Dear Lord God…"

"We gotta see Jarrod," Heath said. "We gotta wire Mother and get him a lawyer."

"No," Nick said sharply.

"Nick, he's committed murder in front of everybody in this town – "

"We don't wire Mother," Nick said flatly. "At least not yet. Come on."

Nick got up and headed for the Sheriff's office, with Heath right behind him.

When they got to the door, the Sheriff had already put their brother into a cell. The cell block door was still open, as if the Sheriff knew they would be coming. They could see Jarrod lie down on the bunk inside a cell. The Sheriff was putting the cell keys into his desk drawer. He looked up at them.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Nick Barkley, this is my brother Heath, we're Jarrod's brothers," Nick said quietly. "Can we talk to him?"

"You can try," the Sheriff said, "but he's locked himself up more than I just did."

They went into the cell block and to Jarrod's cell door immediately. Jarrod was lying with his head toward the door and made no sign that he heard them approach.

"Jarrod – " Nick said.

Jarrod did not move or say a word.

"Jarrod, you gotta talk to us," Nick said. "We can't help you if you don't talk to us."

Nothing.

Heath tried. "Jarrod, we're going to have to wire Mother and tell her what happened."

"No," Jarrod said flatly.

"Jarrod – "

"Get out of here," Jarrod said. "Go home. Leave me alone."

Nick and Heath looked at each other. They weren't about to do that, but they didn't know what they were going to do.

They went back to where the Sheriff was standing behind his desk.

"What happens now?" Nick asked.

Sheriff Fain took the wad of money Jarrod had given him out of his pocket and handed it to Nick. "First, you take this, so things aren't any worse than they are."

Nick took the money.

"We don't have a lawyer in this town, so you better find him a good one elsewhere," the Sheriff continued. "The circuit judge isn't due here for a couple months, but when we have something serious like this, I wire him, and he'll come before that if he can. Your brother could hang by next week."

Nick and Heath looked at each other, and a feeling of complete helplessness washed over both of them. There was no way to get any lawyer here that fast, much less a good lawyer.

"He's not himself, Sheriff," Heath said. "Cass Hyatt murdered his wife, and – "

"I know," Sheriff Fain said, cutting him off, remembering that he had something to answer for himself in this. He had just let Hyatt out of jail early so that Jarrod could have a crack at him. If he hadn't, Hyatt would still be alive, and what was probably a decent man wouldn't be in his jail with a certain murder conviction waiting for him. The Sheriff shook all of that off – he couldn't let that take him over right now. "He told me everything. He's got that in his favor, and he's got that head injury too, but he just killed a man in cold blood with the whole town as witnesses."

"Was it Hyatt who shot him?" Nick asked.

"I assume so, but there's no proof of who did it. He just rode into town slumped over his horse with that bullet wound in the head. There's nothing there to help his case, not really."

"Can I try talking to him again?" Nick asked.

"Go ahead," the Sheriff said.

Nick went back to the cell. Heath just stood at the cell block entrance and watched as Nick took hold of the bars at the cell door. "Jarrod –"

As quick as a cat, Jarrod jumped up and grabbed Nick's hands hard on the cell door bars, so hard it felt like Jarrod was breaking them. Rage flashed out of Jarrod's eyes. He was a man Nick didn't know. "I told you to go home and leave me alone," Jarrod snarled. "Get out, now!"

Jarrod let go of Nick's hands and turned away again. Nick was practically on his knees with pain, but it eased as soon as Jarrod let go. He rubbed his hands together and flexed them, and did not put them back within Jarrod's reach. "Jarrod, I'm going to wire Mother."

Jarrod turned on him again, but Nick was out of his reach.

"She deserves to know the truth," Nick said. "The Sheriff says the judge could be here in a few days and you will probably hang by next week. She deserves to be with you when you die."

That made a difference. Jarrod's eyes flickered, and he turned away slowly.

"Jarrod, let us try to help you," Nick said and felt Heath coming up behind him.

Jarrod shook his head. "There's nothing you can do. I know what I've done. I know I have to pay for it."

"You have a defense, Jarrod," Heath said. 'There's a chance a jury wouldn't convict you."

"I've already convicted myself," Jarrod said, still not turning around. "Please, just go home. Leave me be. Tell Mother – " He stumbled on the rest, the first sign that he had any emotion left in him at all. "Tell Mother I'm sorry it turned out this way, but there was no other way it could be."

Nick gave up. He turned, looked Heath in the eye, and motioned with his head that they should leave.

"Thank you, Sheriff," Heath said as they went out the door together.

He was not surprised that Nick was standing outside, holding his palms over both eyes as if to keep the tears from coming out. Heath didn't know what to do or say.

"It's not gonna end this way," Nick said, suddenly resolved again. "I'm not gonna let this happen."

Heath said, "You can't break a man out of jail who doesn't want to go."

"I'll DRAG him out if I have to!"

"Nick, he won't go, and we have to abide by that and by the law. Look, he knows what he did and he knows what the cost is, and if we don't let him pay it, he ain't gonna be the same man again anyway. This is all gonna eat him and eat him and kill him one way or another. You know that. In your heart, you KNOW that."

"So, you're telling me we just have to let him hang," Nick said.

"I'm telling you we have to find a way to get him to want to live."

Nick chewed that over in his mind. Heath was right, and Nick could only think of one way to accomplish that. He took a coin out of his shirt pocket. "One of us has to go tell Mother and get her down here. Heads I go – tails you go."

Heath nodded, and Nick tossed the coin, letting it fall on the boardwalk. It came up heads.

Nick bent over and picked it up. "Get a room at the hotel, and do what you can to talk to Jarrod, but you best not tell him where I've gone. If I leave now, I can get Mother on the train the day after tomorrow and we can be here the day after that."

Heath nodded. "Good luck, brother."

Nick nodded back. "You, too."

Nick crossed the street alone, untied and mounted his horse, and rode out of town.

Heath stood there alone, noticing for the first time that even though the townspeople had gone back to their routine, there were some of them in groups, talking, looking at him. Every one of those people would testify that they saw Jarrod drown Cass Hyatt in cold blood. Hell, Heath thought. WE saw Jarrod drown Cass Hyatt in cold blood.

He had no idea how he was going to save his brother from a rope. No idea at all.

With a deep sigh, he decided to check into the hotel and let things stew in his mind. Maybe there would be something he could do by the time Nick got back.

TWO

The clerk at the hotel barely spoke to him. He thought he saw a mixture of fear and pity in the man's eyes, so he tried to be as polite as he could and say as little as he could. The man gave him a room key, and Heath carried his saddlebags and bedroll upstairs to room number 3.

It was like any other small town room – a bed, a dresser, lavatory and commode and a worn out chair. Heath threw the bedroll and saddlebags into dresser drawers, then looked out the window to see what this room overlooked.

He saw part of the street, and the doctor's office not far away.

Maybe the doctor had treated Jarrod's head wound. Maybe he would know something Heath could use. Heath left his room and hurried back onto the street.

The doctor was back in his office, alone. There was a front room with a desk, which was where the doctor sat. He looked up and recognized Heath, though he did not know what relation this man had to the man who had just murdered another out in the street. "Can I help you?" the doctor asked.

"I hope so," Heath said, taking his hat off. "My name is Heath Barkley. The man who killed that man out there a few minutes ago is my brother."

"Oh," the doctor said, nodding and leaning further back in his chair. "I am sorry."

"Do you know how he came to be here? Did you treat that head wound?"

"I did," the doctor said. "He came into town yesterday, slumped over his horse. Slipped right off and fell in the street. We had him carried up to a room in the hotel and I examined him. The wound was nasty but it hadn't festered. I treated it and dressed it. Otherwise he was exhausted and worn out, but seemed all right. He didn't wake up until this morning. I went in to check on him with the Sheriff."

"Did he say anything?"

"Yes. He said he was looking for Cass Hyatt, that Hyatt had killed his wife, and that he was going to kill him."

Heath sighed. "Doctor, my brother isn't normally that kind of man. He's a lawyer, a respected lawyer in Stockton and San Francisco. His wife was killed right in front of him."

The doctor nodded. "And he lost his mind. That's what you want me to tell you."

"That's what happened," Heath said.

"To you, I don't doubt it. But medically, he was perfectly sound. He was simply a man overwhelmed by the desire for revenge. That's not a medical condition or a mental illness. Besides, if I were to tell you he HAD lost his mind, you know what would happen to him."

Heath knew. Jarrod would be put away in an insane asylum and that would be the long, agonizing end of him.

"Son," the doctor said. "Over the next few days, your brother may come to realize exactly what he's done, and he may get back some of the man you knew and loved, but he will never really be the same man again. If I were he – I'd prefer to hang, and I wouldn't be surprised if he decides that himself."

Heath shook his head. He was like Nick in this regard: that was not the way this was going to end for Jarrod. There had to be another way.

"Thank you, doctor," Heath said, put his hat back on and left.

THREE

As soon as he stepped outside, Heath realized he was really hungry. There was a saloon across the street. Heath crossed over, went in, and bought some cheese, bread and a shot of whiskey. He took it all to an empty table nearby, gobbled down the food, and nursed the whiskey, trying to think.

There were half a dozen men in the bar as well, most of them watching him, although Heath didn't notice until one of them pulled out a chair and sat down with him. Heath looked up. The man looked like a cowman, dusty all over and carrying a sidearm. The man took his hat off, put it on the table and ran his hand through fairly long and unkempt brown hair.

"Who is that man to you?" the man asked.

Heath eyed him. "Who's asking?"

"Somebody who saw the whole thing," the man said. "My name is Collier, Lewis Collier. I have a small spread just outside of town."

Heath said, "Heath Barkley. The man is my brother. What did you see?"

Collier shook his head. Two other men at the bar wandered over to listen. "Nothing good," Collier said. "Your brother was waiting for that dead fellow to come out of the jail. The Sheriff threw the man out and your brother called on him to draw, but the man ducked and then the shooting started. The man was scared out of his mind, ran and hid behind some barrels and threw his gun out into the street. He was screaming he had killed your brother's wife and begging the Sheriff to protect him, but your brother holstered his gun and went after him barehanded. Choked him and dragged him to the trough and – well, then you got here."

One of the other men said, "Yeah, that's the way it was."

"Listen," Collier said. "We're a small town. Justice around here is justice, not always by the book."

"What do you mean?" Heath asked.

"Somebody could have stopped your brother. Nobody did. That means something."

Heath saw the other men nod, and they all looked at him as if he understood perfectly what they were saying. Heath thought he did.

There was a chance. If Jarrod could tell his whole story to a jury from around here, he might not be convicted. These people might not say "justified murder," but they were sure thinking it.

"Thanks," Heath said. "I appreciate what you're saying."

The men all nodded, and Collier got up and went back to the bar with the other two.

Heath felt the tug of hope inside him. There was a chance. If Jarrod could WANT to live, there was a chance he would.

Heath finished the drink and went out. Unable to sit still, he spent the rest of the afternoon walking the streets, watching the eyes of the people who looked at him, trying to figure out a way to get through to Jarrod.

FOUR

Nick rode home as quickly as his horse would tolerate, riding even after it got dark, by a moon nearly full that helped a lot. Along the way he tried to think of how he was going to explain this to his mother and Audra, if she was back yet. They were tough women, but this – this was the biggest tragedy to hit the family since his father died. In a lot of ways, this was even worse.

By mid morning the next day, Nick was on Barkley property and not long after that, he was riding up to the house. One of the hands was there by the barn. Nick dismounted and handed the reins of his horse to the man, saying, "Rest him, groom him, and water and feed him."

"You won't be needing a mount today?" the man asked.

Nick shook his head. "We'll need a ride to town. Get the wagon ready and get us a driver."

"Yes, sir," the man said and took Nick's horse into the barn.

Nick strode into the house and looked all over for his mother and Audra, but neither was in sight. "Mother?!"

Normally, Victoria would have asked him for the nth time not to bellow so, but these were not normal times. She came in quickly from the kitchen, with Audra right behind her. "Did you find him?" she asked quickly.

Nick looked at her steadily, nodded, and said, "I'm glad you're back, Audra. We need to talk, all of us."

Victoria closed her eyes. Audra steadied her, although she really didn't need it. Nick guided her into the parlor and sat her down in the nearest chair. "What's happened?" she asked quietly.

"We found him in Rimfire," Nick said. The next sentence was the hardest he ever uttered in his life. "He killed Cass Hyatt."

Victoria slumped in the chair, covering her eyes with her hand. Audra began to cry as she rubbed her mother's shoulders. In a moment, Victoria gathered herself together and asked, "Did he murder him?"

Nick knew she was asking if it had been a fair gunfight and he hated having to say the rest, but he said, "Yes. We were only a minute too late to stop it. He drowned him in a watering trough."

Victoria's tears came out with an agonizing cry, Dirty as he was from the trail, Nick knelt down and held her, and Audra joined in so that for a long time, they only remained that way, Victoria and Audra sobbing, Nick just trying to hold them together.

Silas, their manservant, heard the noise and came in from the kitchen. As soon as he saw them, he knew what had happened. The grief twisted inside of him as well, but he had to bear it alone, so he went back into the kitchen without them even knowing he'd been there.

After a long time, Victoria straightened and gently pushed her children away. Wiping her face, she gathered her courage and reason again and asked, "Has he been arrested?"

"Yes," Nick said.

"We'll need to get him a lawyer. What else can we do now?"

"Heath stayed up there with him," Nick said, "but you probably already know he's not himself at all. He's just accepted that – " Nick stumbled.

Victoria finished the sentence. She knew her oldest son like she knew herself. "He is going to hang."

"We can't let that happen!" Audra blurted.

"No, we can't, and we won't," Nick said. "Mother, you have to be up to this. You have to come to Rimfire with me and talk to him."

"Were there witnesses to what happened?" Victoria asked.

Nick nodded. "Heath and I were there for the end of it, and most of the town saw all of it."

"How do you think we can save him from this?"

"I don't know yet. I only know that we have to start by making him want to save himself because right now, he's ready to die."

"No," Audra said flatly. "No, we can't let him die."

Victoria touched her arm. "Audra, pack some things. If we leave soon we can catch the 3 o'clock train to Modesto and get a rig to take us to Rimfire." She got up. "I need to pack. Nick, we breakfasted late. Get yourself something to eat and get someone ready to take us to town."

"The wagon's already being rigged," Nick said. But he held onto his mother as she tried to turn, and he held her gaze as tightly as he held her. "We will get through this, Mother. If there is any way at all to save him, we'll find it. I swear it."

Victoria reached up and kissed his cheek. Then he let her go, and she hurried upstairs with Audra to pack.

On the way to Stockton, they decided to try to see one of the other attorneys in town and try to hire him to go with them, but they only had time to go to the office of one of them, and he was not available. They left a message telling him what was happening and asking him to wire them in Rimfire. They sent Heath a telegram telling him they would arrive the next day before they barely made the train to Modesto.

They hardly said a word to each other before they reached Modesto, after dark. They got rooms at the hotel and Nick arranged for a rig to drive them to Rimfire in the morning.

Victoria and Audra took a room next to Nick, but all night long, Victoria could hear her middle son pacing, pacing. It was all she could do to keep from going to him, but she knew it would do no good. Audra was sleeping restlessly, and she did not want to disturb her anyway.

She never felt more helpless in her entire life. She replayed in her mind every instance of Jarrod's life that she could remember, the good parts as well as the bad, because she could not accept that her son could be taken away from her forever in a matter of days. She remembered when he was just an infant, noisy and demanding much of the time, but as he grew, he grew calmer and wiser.

But was all of this rage and brutality lying underneath all these years? It had to be. It was there. Why hadn't she seen it and done something about it? When was it she missed the signs that led him to this?

She fell asleep wondering, wishing she could have the years back, knowing she couldn't. Meanwhile, Nick continued to pace.

FIVE

Heath was finishing breakfast at the café when he saw the waitress taking a tray of food out the door. He left money on the table and hurried after her, and he caught her just as she was stepping up to the jailhouse door.

"Can I take that in for you?" he offered.

She looked at him like she knew who he was, which she did. She smiled sadly. "Sure."

Heath took it from her and went inside, where he found Sheriff Fain at his desk. "Morning," he said and set the tray on the Sheriff's desk.

"Mornin'," the Sheriff replied and lifted the napkins covering the food off to make sure there was nothing under there that shouldn't be. There wasn't. "You want to take it In to him?"

"Is that all right?"

Sheriff Fain got up and took the cell keys out of his desk. Heath picked up the tray and followed him.

Sheriff Fain opened the cell block door, then led Heath to Jarrod's cell. Jarrod's cell had no window, but there was a window at the end of the cell block hallway. Jarrod was standing at the wall of his cell where he could see something out of the window. He turned when he heard them. He looked terrible, gaunt, his hair and beard too long, his eyes flat and lifeless. "I'm not hungry," he said and looked back out the window.

"You haven't had much to eat since you've been in my keeping," the Sheriff said and opened the door.

Heath took the tray in and sat it on the end of the bunk. "If you don't want it, I'll eat it."

"Be my guest," Jarrod said.

The Sheriff closed and locked the door, saying, "I'll bring in some coffee."

Heath uncovered the food again. "I don't know, Jarrod, this smells awful good."

Jarrod said nothing.

"You might as well eat," Heath said. "Before long, your clothes are gonna fall off and you'll go to the gallows naked."

The mildly inappropriate levity didn't work either.

The Sheriff brought a cup of coffee in and handed it to Heath through the bars.

Heath wasn't remotely hungry, but he picked up a piece of bacon and waved in the air before popping it into his mouth so Jarrod would smell it better. It made no difference. He and Sheriff Fain looked at each other. The Sheriff shook his head and went back to his office.

"I'm not gonna go away, Jarrod," Heath finally said.

"Suit yourself," Jarrod said.

"And I deserve better than the way you're treating me."

Heath knew he was grasping at straws now, but he was ready to try anything to get Jarrod to talk to him.

Jarrod did turn and glare at him. "I told you to go home and leave me be."

"So you can sit here and feel sorry for yourself?" Heath said without looking at him. "No, I don't think so. That never was my style."

Jarrod suddenly leaned down directly into Heath's face. "No, your style is being very good at bursting in where you don't belong."

That stung Heath to the core. He was ready to be in charge of how this talk went. He was not ready for Jarrod to be the attacker on such a deep, emotional level, jabbing Heath where he knew it would hurt the most. Heath jumped up. "You know, maybe there's something in you that always resented me turning up and ruining the comfortable place you had in your family tree, but bringing it up now ain't gonna change the fix you're in and how much I want to help you out of it, because like it or not, I am your brother. And if you think I'm gonna let you destroy this family, you got another think comin'."

Jarrod backed off and quietly said, "I've already destroyed it. It's beyond fixing."

"That's what you'd like to think, because then you won't have to do any of the hard work it's gonna take to put it back together. You can just hang for your crime and leave us to pick up the pieces. Just how the hell do you expect Mother to live with this if you hang? It's gonna be hard enough for her to swallow the fact that you murdered a man in cold blood. How do you expect her to go on if she has to watch you hang?"

Jarrod's eyes flashed. Heath knew he had just said the wrong thing. "Mother is coming here," Jarrod said. "That's where Nick is. He went to get her, didn't he?"

The snarl was back in Jarrod's voice. Heath remembered what Nick had said to him and he repeated it. "She has the right to be with you when you die, Jarrod. Maybe you can beat yourself up over what you've done. Maybe you can hang from those gallows until the crows pick your eyes out, but you can't keep her from holding your dead body in her arms and crying over you for the rest of her life if you give in and let them hang you without a fight."

Jarrod softened again and quietly asked, "How can I fight? Dozens of witnesses saw what I did."

"That doesn't mean a jury is gonna find you guilty."

"And what if they don't?" Now Jarrod was just about snarling again. "What if by some miracle they find me not guilty? How am I supposed to live with myself after what I've done? I've spent my life fighting for the law and for justice, and now I've thrown it all away."

"You haven't, Jarrod."

"I have!"

"Jarrod, you and I both know that the law and justice are sometimes two different things. It's for a jury to interpret the law and find the justice. How many times have you said that to me yourself? How many times?"

Jarrod stared at the floor. "Over and over again," he said quietly, and then he turned and sat on the bunk. He looked at the food.

Heath picked up another piece of bacon and held it out to him. "It's plum good, brother."

Jarrod took it and put it into his mouth.

SIX

Victoria, Nick and Audra arrived in Rimfire in the early afternoon and pulled up to the hotel in a wagon they rented in Modesto. Heath had been in the hotel lobby – if you could call it a lobby, it was only a small room – and came out right away to greet them. He took hold of the horses and held the wagon still while Nick climbed out and then helped his mother and sister down.

Victoria and Audra both gave Heath a kiss on the cheek, and he said, "I've already gotten rooms for you in the hotel here."

Nick said, "Good. I'll get the bags up," and began to unload the wagon.

"Have you seen Jarrod today?" Victoria asked.

Heath nodded. "Earlier this morning. He's – still sullen, quiet, but I did get him to eat a couple strips of bacon. Mother, other than that, I don't think he's eaten for a week, so don't expect him to look very good."

Victoria quickly scanned the street for the jail and as soon as she found it, she started that way.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Nick said. "You should freshen up a bit before you go over there, and we have to get these bags inside and the horses tended to – "

"You and Heath can do those things," Victoria said. "Audra and I are going to see Jarrod."

"Mother, you should wait for one of us," Heath said.

She looked straight at him. "To see my own son?"

"He's not himself."

"I've seen him in the best of times and times worse than you can imagine, Heath," she said softly. "He's my son. We'll see him for a few minutes and then meet you both back here at the hotel."

That was that. Nick and Heath gave each other looks, but they knew who really was the boss in this family, and they knew when to stay back in their place. When Victoria was as stubborn as this, they loved her even more for it. They let her and Audra go over to the jail alone.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Heath said quietly to Nick, "The Sheriff got a wire from the Circuit Judge this morning. He'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

Nick slumped.

As they went into the Sheriff's office, both Victoria and Audra removed their gloves. Sheriff Fain was at his desk and stood up right away. With a smile, Victoria extended her hand, saying, "Sheriff, I am Victoria Barkley, Jarrod Barkley's mother. This is my daughter, Audra."

Sheriff Fain took her hand. "Your son Heath told me you'd be coming."

"I'd like to see my son."

The Sheriff nodded, took the cell door keys from his desk, and ushered them into the cell area.

Jarrod had heard them arrive, but he was on his back on the bunk and did not move.

"Wake up, Mr. Barkley, you have company," the Sheriff said loudly and unlocked the cell door.

Victoria and Audra went inside and the Sheriff locked the door behind them. He waited in the hall to see how this was going to go, whether Jarrod was going to talk to them at all.

Victoria and Audra stood there beside Jarrod, looking down at him without a word, waiting.

Jarrod sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bunk and planting his feet on the floor. He stood up slowly, as if it were painful and tiring. As he faced his mother and sister, the Sheriff went back to his desk, but he left the cell block door open.

Audra recoiled just a bit at the sight of him. He looked awful – heavy bearded, hair long and unwashed, clothes hanging on him like he was only a stick of wood. He smelled just as bad, but the worst were his eyes. The sparkling blue was gone. Now they were sickly gray, as if the life were draining out of him through those eyes. And his head was bandaged – no one had mentioned he'd been injured.

"Mother," he said and kissed her cheek. "Audra," and the same dry kiss for her.

"How are you?" Victoria asked.

"I'm fine," he said.

"You don't lie well."

Jarrod shook his head. "You shouldn't have come."

"What were we supposed to do? Turn our backs on you like you did to us?"

Jarrod expected the scolding. He knew he deserved it. But – "I'm not a child, Mother, and this is not the schoolhouse where I've been kept late for smacking the boy next to me. You shouldn't have come. You should go home."

"Why?"

He hadn't expected that question. It forced him to think thoughts he hadn't really taken deep inside yet, and it forced him to take them inside. But he only said, "I've murdered a man in cold blood. They will hang me for that."

Somehow, saying those words to his mother made them real and final and irrevocable. He turned away from his mother and sister and went to the far wall of his cell to look out the window at the end of the hall.

"Jarrod, you can't give up like that," Audra said.

Victoria held a hand up to quiet her. "Nothing is final yet. You will get a trial."

"I'm guilty. I'll plead guilty."

"That would be wrong."

Jarrod turned around. "Are you the lawyer now, Mother? I think I know how to counsel myself better than you do."

"Any man who counsels himself has a fool for a client," Victoria said. "How many times have you said that to me?"

"Did you bring a lawyer with you?"

Victoria shook her head. "There was no time."

"Well then, I'm the only lawyer around, and I'm doing what I would advise any man who came to me with the kind of evidence against him that I'm facing. Plead guilty. Throw yourself on the mercy of the court."

"What do you expect the judge would do, Jarrod? Sentence you to life in prison? Is that what you want?"

Jarrod took a step closer to her. "The Circuit Judge will be here tomorrow, Mother. I will hang in two days. Did you come here prepared for that?"

Audra shut her eyes and turned her head away, but Victoria stared up into her son's eyes and said, "I came prepared for whatever would come, because you are my son and I love you, no matter what you've done, no matter what you think of yourself. And if I have to watch you hang, I will watch you hang. I will take your body into my arms and mourn for the rest of my life if that is what happens, but remember something right now – you are a Barkley. You do not give up without trying every way there is to stay alive and free."

Jarrod looked back out the window. Her words did touch something inside him, something deep, something Barkley.

But then he saw Beth in his mind's eye, smiling, loving and then dead in his arms. The rage that drove him here welled up again, and he remembered what it felt like to drown the life out of Cass Hyatt. It felt good, and it strangled whatever feeling of Barkley was inside.

Jarrod closed his eyes and said, "Mother, I've murdered a man and I'm glad I did it. I know the price and I would do it again. Go home. Remember when I was a different man and hold onto that if you have to hold onto something of me."

Victoria swallowed, but she would not concede to him. She said, "We're staying, and if it is to watch you hang, then it will be to watch you hang. But think about what I've said."

Jarrod dropped his gaze to the floor, but did nothing else.

Victoria signaled the Sheriff and he came to let them out. They walked straight out of the office to the street, where Audra dissolved in tears. Victoria put an arm around her and pulled her close before they crossed the street to go to the hotel.

SEVEN

"We have to find some way to make him want to live!" Audra cried again and again.

The Barkleys were in Victoria's and Audra's room. Nick and Heath explained what had been going on since Jarrod was arrested. They talked about the efforts they made to get him out of the darkness he'd sunk into. Victoria explained how her visit to him had gone.

Nick was the one who let the frustration get to him first. He started to put a fist through the wall, but a weary, "Nick!" from his mother stopped him.

"It's hard to tell him to fight when the only result of winning in a trial would be a life sentence in prison," Victoria said. "He's right about one thing – he is guilty, and he will pay some price for it."

"Maybe not a legal one," Heath said.

"What do you mean?" Nick asked.

"I was in the saloon, right after you left the other day," Heath explained. "One of the townsmen sat down with me, a couple of the men who had seen everything came over, too. They said everybody saw Jarrod was going to kill Hyatt in cold blood, but nobody stopped him, and there was a reason for that."

"What are you saying?" Victoria asked.

"I'm saying that if Jarrod doesn't plead guilty and requests a jury trial, a jury here might just find him not guilty, and he'll be a free man."

They all grabbed onto that. "Did you tell Jarrod about that?" Nick asked.

Heath shook his head. "I don't want that to get around very far. If a judge smells that a jury here would be tainted, he'll move the trial."

Victoria said, "So we're left with the same problem. We have to get Jarrod to want to live or he will simply plead guilty."

"And if he does that," Nick said, "a judge might just sentence him to life in prison."

"And that would be worse than hanging," Victoria said.

She had been sitting in the one chair in the room, but got up after she said that and wandered to the window. The room faced the street, but it was like any other street, full of people and horses and wagons, all living normal lives, like the one they had been living scarcely two weeks ago.

"And that's what we'll have to use to get him to request a jury trial," Victoria said and came back in.

Her children looked quizzical.

"The only thing that will get him to request a jury trial is the threat that if he pleads guilty, he will get life in prison rather than hanging," Victoria said. "And life in prison would be -"

Up until that point she had been calm, wise and stable, but now suddenly she began to fall apart. She realized that to her, watching Jarrod lead to a life in prison would be worse than watching him led to the gallows.

"Oh," she said. "We're going to lose him, aren't we?"

Her children hurried to her.

"He's got a chance to be free if he requests a jury trial," Heath said. "I know it. It's a good chance."

"But even then, we'll have to deal with the guilt he feels inside," Victoria said. "He'll punish himself, and I don't know where that will lead."

"One bridge at a time," Nick said. "First, we get him to want to have a jury trial. I can't believe he wouldn't reach for the chance to be free, even if it wasn't a big chance."

"If he believed a judge might send him to prison, but a jury would hang him or set him free," Heath said. "If we can get him to believe that."

"He'd choose the jury trial," Audra said. "I know he would."

Victoria sucked her tears back in. "Then that's what we do. Give me a few minutes to freshen up, and I will try talking to him again."

"No," Heath said. "Let me do it."

"Why you?" Nick asked.

"I was almost there with him this morning," Heath explained. "He might let me take him all the way. Let me try, anyway."

Victoria nodded, and when she did, the issue was decided. Heath gave her a squeeze, and a smile and a nod to Nick and Audra, and he left to go over to the jail.

EIGHT

The Sheriff sighed when Heath came in. This parade of Barkleys was getting tedious – no, not tedious, just difficult, because each time one of them came in to talk to his prisoner, Sheriff Fain's own complications with this issue hit him in the face. But again, he put personal things aside and just took the cell key out of his desk. After he let Heath into Jarrod's cell, he locked the door behind him and went back to his desk, again leaving the cell block door open.

Jarrod was still standing by cell wall where he could see the window. He hadn't moved since his mother and sister left. He gave Heath a glance when he heard the door open but looked away again right away.

Heath gave him a moment, and then he said, "Mother and Audra are pretty upset."

Jarrod looked down at his feet but said nothing.

Heath heaved a sigh. "Look, I'm not here with my heart on my sleeve. We've been through all that. I'm here to talk with the LAWYER Jarrod Barkley."

"He's gone," Jarrod said.

"No, he's not. You once told me that once you become a lawyer, you change inside forever. You're still that lawyer."

"I already told you how I'd advise a client in my position."

"Well, think again, because you've missed some of the evidence."

Jarrod looked over at his brother. He didn't say anything, but something in his expression told Heath to go on and go on fast.

"You're your own client," Heath said. "Say you plead guilty and beg the mercy of the court. What's the judge gonna do? He's gonna give you that mercy and put you in prison for life. You know it. I know it. Is that what you want?"

Jarrod thought. Heath could see the wheels turning.

"There's a better choice. Ask for a jury trial. Tell your story to the jury and let them find whatever the justice is in what you've done. They're not gonna send you to prison. They're either gonna find you guilty and hang you – which is what you want – or they're gonna find you not guilty and set you free." He paused. "If a jury does that, isn't that telling you THAT's what you really deserve?"

Jarrod sat down on the bunk, confusion all over his face. There was a war inside that Heath could see on the outside. The murderer was battling with the lawyer, finally.

Heath sat down beside him. "It's not gonna be easy but think about it for a minute. How many people were out on that street watching you kill Hyatt? Did anybody try to stop you? Even after you put your sidearm away, did ANYBODY try to stop you?"

No, no one did, Jarrod thought. The lawyer sorted out Heath's argument like he was making it and believing it himself.

Heath said, "Jarrod, if you plead not guilty and ask for a jury trial, there's a chance – a CHANCE – that a jury will understand why you did what you did, and if they do and they set you free, THAT's justice, isn't it?"

Jarrod thought it out further. Maybe it was real justice, not only the justice he was passing on himself – but then the guilt, the shame overwhelmed him again. How in God's name could he ever hold his head up in public again? How could he continue to practice law knowing he was a cold- blooded killer, whatever a jury said?

But Heath was right about one thing. A judge WOULD sentence him to life in prison, and that would be unbearable, to him, worse yet to the family. And a jury WOULD reject that and either hang him or set him free. If he were to hang, so be it – his justice and the jury's justice would be the same, and even the family would have to accept it. And if a jury set him free and he still had this guilt and shame, he could deal with that after this part of the nightmare was over.

For the first time since Beth died, Jarrod gave a hint of a smile and looked at Heath. "YOU ought to be the lawyer in this family, you know that?"

It was like the sun came out shining again after weeks of rain. Heath grinned from ear to ear and took Jarrod by the shoulder.

Audra slept more quietly that night; Victoria was awake for a while, but she did not hear Nick pacing in the room next door – she heard him snoring instead. She fell asleep quickly after that.

NINE

The Judge, a man in his 50s and a bit portly, came in just after noon the next day. With a tired sigh he said a familiar, "Hello, Sheriff. How are you?"

Sheriff Fain stood up. "A little the worse for wear, Your Honor, but still standing."

They shook hands. "Where's the defendant?" the Judge asked.

The Sheriff pointed to the cell block. Together they walked into the block and to the cell door. Jarrod stood up immediately from the bunk. He did not know this Judge at all, and the Judge did not know him.

"Young man, my name is Judge Andrew Butler," the Judge said. "What is your name?"

"Jarrod Thomas Barkley, Your Honor," Jarrod said, oddly enough to him in his strong courtroom voice. It was a habit too old to break even now.

"Do you understand the charge against you?"

"Yes, Your Honor."

"What is the charge?"

"Murder with malicious intent, Your Honor."

After all those "Your Honors" the Judge raised an eyebrow. "You've been before a court before."

"Yes, Your Honor. I'm an attorney at law, out of Stockton and San Francisco."

Judge Butler's eyebrow went even higher. He almost asked how in God's name this lawyer in front of him was on the wrong side of the bars, but instead he asked simply, "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty, Your Honor," Jarrod said without hesitating, even if it did catch in the throat of his mind.

It was what Judge Butler expected. "Very well. Sheriff, assemble a jury and we'll start the trial first thing in the morning. The saloon still the place?"

"Yes, sir," Sheriff Fain said.

"We're pretty informal around here, Mr. Barkley," Judge Butler said. "We don't have the niceties of a prosecutor – Sheriff Fain will simply tell what he knows and call a witness or two to say what they saw."

"Looks like I'm gonna be the only witness this time, Judge," the Sheriff said. "I saw as much as anybody and I know more."

"Oh, all right," Judge Butler said. Then to Jarrod, "I assume you haven't got a lawyer."

"I will represent myself, Your Honor," Jarrod said. "There's no time to get a lawyer up here."

"I can continue the case until you can get one, but you'll have to stay in jail until I can get back around here, and that might be a month or two."

Jarrod shook his head. "I will represent myself," he repeated.

"Very well. I will see you in the morning. Sheriff – "

Judge Butler and Sheriff Fain went back out to the Sheriff's desk; Sheriff fain locked the cell block door. Judge Butler signed some papers and gave them to the Sheriff. The Sheriff put them into a file in the bottom drawer of his desk and said, "Judge, there are a couple things unusual about this case."

"Only a couple?" the Judge said. "Seems like we already have a pile."

"I have some personal involvement that will come out at the trial."

"Will that keep you from doing the job you are required to do in this trial?"

"No, sir. It will just make things more – interesting."

"In little old Rimfire? Are we going to have a packed courtroom?"

"Quite likely."

"Well, then I will get some rest."

"Mr. Barkley's family has a few rooms at the hotel. I took the liberty of fixing you up at Mrs. Converse's Boarding House."

The Judge smiled. "Good. The food's better. I will see you at the saloon at nine a.m. Make sure all the liquor stops serving at closing tonight and doesn't start up again until after this trial is over. How long do you think?"

The Sheriff shrugged. "Maybe half an hour, maybe all day. Depends on the jury."

"Well, you get to rounding them up, and make sure you don't have any witnesses to the crime in the bunch."

The Sheriff thought that might be hard, but he'd get to it right away. To the Judge, he just nodded.

TEN

It was tough to be stoic, but each of the Barkleys managed to do it in his or her own way come the next morning. Victoria and her children were there as soon as the saloon doors opened, and the crowd – the word had already spread as to who these strangers were – parted to let them through first. As many people as could piled in after them.

The jury was already chosen and sitting in twelve chairs set at right angle to chairs set in place for the spectators. Nick helped his mother and sister to chairs in the front row behind the defendant's table, eyeing the jury, looking for some idea of what they might be thinking, but only one or two of them glanced his way. The rest were sitting quietly, watching for the Judge to come in, which he did through a side door in a few minutes. It was only a few minutes after that the Sheriff led Jarrod in through the same side door.

Jarrod had shaved and cleaned up. His hair was washed even if it was still too long. His hands were cuffed in front of him. That was a shock to his family. They hadn't thought about all the trial trappings that would be happening today, but seeing the cuffs and seeing Jarrod being led by the Sheriff reminded them graphically of the severity of what they were about to see. Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Audra looked down, but Victoria kept her eyes on her son.

Jarrod did not look at his family or the jury. He looked only at the Judge.

"Everybody be seated," the Judge said. Whoever could sit down, including Jarrod, did. Jarrod stopped looking at the Judge then and stared only at the table in front of him.

Judge Butler continued, reciting the charge of murder with malicious intent, swearing in the jury, then swearing in Sheriff Fain, who would be the only prosecution witness. Sheriff Fain took the seat beside the Judge's table, and the Judge said, "Tell the jury what happened, Sheriff."

Sheriff Fain adjusted himself and took a deep breath. "The deceased – Cass Hyatt – came into town alone last Friday. He was only here a few hours before he got into a fight in this saloon and I arrested and jailed him for a 30-day term. Just after that, the defendant, Jarrod Barkley, came into town. He was slumped over the horn of his saddle, unconscious with a bullet wound to his head, and he fell off into the street. I had him carried to a hotel room and tended to by the doctor. He did not wake up until the next morning."

"Pardon me, Sheriff," the Judge interrupted. "Is the reason for his head wound at issue here?"

"No, Your Honor," the Sheriff said. "It's not known who shot him." Not really true – Sheriff Fain knew it was Hyatt, but since there was no evidence and never would be any, he could not bring it up, even though he thought it might help Jarrod Barkley. The jury would probably draw its own conclusions anyway.

"Proceed," the Judge said.

"The defendant regained consciousness the next morning. The doctor and I saw him. We had found his name in his wallet. He told us he was following Cass Hyatt – the deceased – that Hyatt had killed his wife, and that he intended to kill Hyatt. I told him Hyatt was in jail for 30 days and I left him to rest in the doctor's care, but he was up and around in only an hour or so. He came to my office and – tried to talk me into releasing Hyatt. He told me he would wait in the street until I did, and that is what he did. So, I gave Hyatt his gun and released him."

Judge Butler looked up, startled. Jarrod kept his eyes fixed on the table in front of him, just as he had the whole time since he sat down. A rumbling of voices went all around the room.

Judge Butler pounded his gavel and the room quieted down. He did not pursue what the Sheriff had said. That would wait until later, out of court. "Continue, please, Sheriff."

"I followed Hyatt out into the street. The defendant was waiting across the street for him and immediately called him out. Hyatt began yelling for help, then he started shooting and ducking for cover. The defendant returned fire but nobody hit anything. Then Hyatt threw his gun out into the street and started yelling for me. He admitted he'd killed the defendant's wife and insisted I had to protect him. Before I could approach, the defendant holstered his gun, said he'd kill Hyatt with his bare hands, and physically went after him. Hyatt tried to get away, but the defendant got to him – beat him – tried to choke him. Hyatt got away for a moment, but the defendant grabbed him again in front of the watering trough and pushed his head under the water. He held him down there."

"Did anyone try to stop the defendant?" the Judge asked.

"No," the Sheriff said, knowing full well that "anyone" also meant him and he was adding another nail to his own coffin. "Not until the defendant's brothers rode in fast. One of them pulled the defendant away, the other pulled Hyatt out of the trough."

"Are those brothers in this courtroom?"

"They are the two men sitting in the row behind the defendant."

"Go on, Sheriff."

"The defendant pulled his gun on his brothers, but the dark-haired brother told him he'd have to shoot him before he'd let him get to Hyatt. I was about to pull my own sidearm – I did not intend to let the defendant kill his brother – but by then the light-haired brother had pulled Hyatt out of the trough and said he was dead. I immediately arrested the defendant and took him to the jail."

"Are you finished, Sheriff?" the Judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Mr. Barkley, do you have any questions for the Sheriff?"

Jarrod stood up and looked at the Judge. "No, Your Honor." Then he sat down again.

"Very well," Judge Butler said. "Are there any other witnesses for the prosecution, Sheriff?"

"No, Your Honor," the Sheriff said.

"Very well, you may step down." As the Sheriff retook his seat at the table where Jarrod was, the Judge asked, "Mr. Barkley, do you have any witnesses?"

Jarrod stood up again. "Only myself, Your Honor."

"Very well. Take the stand."

Shaking visibly, Jarrod walked to the chair beside the Judge's table and stood there. He raised one hand, but still being shackled, both hands came up.

The Judge asked, "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do," Jarrod said.

"Please be seated and give us your testimony."

Jarrod closed his eyes for a long moment, and Victoria closed hers. When Jarrod opened his, he looked only at the floor in front of him, and began to speak. "I will stipulate to everything the Sheriff has said."

The Judge interrupted, speaking to the jury. "That means that he accepts everything the Sheriff said as true."

"Thank you, Your Honor," Jarrod said, completely out of habit. "I only add that – " He closed his eyes again, struggling for the words. "I am a lawyer before the bar of California. Several years ago, I prosecuted the deceased, Cass Hyatt, and he was sent to prison for several years. As he was led from the courtroom, he vowed he would kill me. I didn't think much of it, even when he was released about two weeks ago. My wife and I met on a train from Washington – maybe only two weeks ago –" He shook his head. It was hard to believe it was such a short time ago. "We fell in love right away and were married in Denver. We were together only a few days when – she was shot in front of my eyes. She fell dead into my arms." He held his arms out in front of him. He could see her lying in them.

The Judge looked steadily at him but did not interrupt him. He gave Jarrod his own time.

Jarrod took a deep breath. "I remember only that I – burned inside and it would not go away. I don't even remember coming here. I don't remember being shot. I do remember – killing Cass Hyatt. I can offer no excuse other than what I've just said."

Jarrod hung his head and closed his eyes. The Judge gave him a few moments before asking, "Are you finished, Mr. Barkley?"

Jarrod lifted his head again. "I am, Your Honor." That was it. He did not say he was sorry.

The Judge wished he had, even if he didn't mean it. "Do you have any questions, Sheriff?"

The Sheriff stood and said, "No, Your Honor."

"Do you have any other witnesses, Mr. Barkley?"

"No, Your Honor," Jarrod said.

"Then you are excused."

Sheriff Fain came up and led Jarrod back to his seat at the table.

"Do you have closing argument, Sheriff?" the Judge asked.

Sheriff Fain stood and said, "No, Your Honor."

"Mr. Barkley?"

Jarrod stood. "No, Your Honor."

"Very well." The Judge turned toward the jury. He gave them about five sentences about their duty to weigh the evidence and find the defendant guilty or not guilty of the charge. Then another man led the jury out of the back door of the saloon to another building where they would deliberate.

The Judge pounded his gavel, and Sheriff Fain led Jarrod out of the back door and back to jail. Judge Butler was right behind them. And that was it. All over in a matter of minutes.

Except for the verdict.

Victoria and her children stood up. Victoria said, "We should go see Jarrod."

"Better wait a few minutes," Heath said. He remembered what Collier and the other men had said in the bar, and he hoped with everything in him that what he felt might be true was true. "This may not take long."

Victoria sat down again, and so did her children, and they waited.

ELEVEN

Jarrod allowed the Sheriff to remove the handcuffs and to place him in his cell. As the Sheriff closed and locked the door, Jarrod turned and said, "It took a lot of courage for you to say what you said about letting Hyatt go free. I appreciate it."

He and Sheriff Fain looked each other in the eyes for the first time in days. The Sheriff smiled a little. "No more courage than it took for you to say what you said. I do wish, Mr. Barkley, that you and I had met over a beer, and not like this. I am truly sorry for – all of this."

Jarrod nodded. "I'm probably going to cost you your job, and I am truly sorry for that."

The Sheriff shrugged. "I accept my part in this, just as you've accepted yours. Just between you and me, I hope they let you go."

Jarrod smiled a little. "Just between you and me, I hope they don't."

Sheriff Fain nodded. If any two men in all of this understood each other, they did.

The Barkleys did not speak much to each other. Nick got up and paced a lot. Even Heath moved to the bar, just to be standing up. Nick kept checking his watch. Five minutes went by, then ten, then fifteen.

"I thought they'd be back by now," he said to Heath.

"These things take time," Heath said.

"I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life."

"Me, either."

Audra said, "Mother, would you like to go out for some air?"

"No," Victoria said and patted her arm. "I'm fine."

Nick heard them speak to each other and said to Heath, "Maybe we ought to go see Jarrod."

"Lets give it a while longer," Heath said. He still hoped for a quick verdict in Jarrod's favor, but he was getting nervous.

Another five minutes, then another, and then suddenly the back door opened and Judge Butler came through. Everyone in the place who wasn't already standing stood up. He waved them down, banged his gavel once, and said, "The jury has a verdict."

Victoria forced her eyes to stay open. Whatever was waiting for her son here, she was going to face it with him. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear it.

Nick and Heath came back to take their seats.

In a minute or two, everyone stood again when the jury was brought back in. Then they sat down, and a minute later, Sheriff Fain brought Jarrod back in. Neither of them sat.

Judge Butler asked, "Has the jury reached a verdict?"

The foreman stood and said, "We have, Your Honor."

"How do you find?"

The foreman looked at Jarrod, who stared only at the table in front of him. "We find the defendant, Jarrod Thomas Barkley, not guilty."

Victoria nearly fainted. Jarrod closed his eyes, trembling. Voices began rumbling everywhere.

Judge Butler banged the gavel once and the room quieted. "I would like to poll the jury."

Then one by one, he read the names off, and one by one, twelve times around, the room heard "Not guilty."

Judge Butler then banged the gavel again and said, "A verdict being unanimous, the defendant, Jarrod Thomas Barkley is hereby judged not guilty. Sheriff, you may release the prisoner."

Jarrod did not open his eyes until he felt Sheriff Fain removing the shackles. Nick and Heath ran to their brother and hugged him, almost jumping up and down. Victoria and Audra held each other, crying with relief.

Even if Victoria was admitting to herself that relief wasn't all she was feeling. She watched her oldest son's reaction to his brothers' embraces. He was as unmoved as ever, still staring with those dead grey eyes.

TWELVE

In a few minutes, Jarrod was alone again with Sheriff Fain in the Sheriff's office, collecting his coat, sidearm, saddlebags, bedroll and rifle. Sheriff Fain did not like the way he looked, but figured the man had to be exhausted, and that head wound was only a few days old. He said, "I'm glad things worked out for you, Mr. Barkley."

Jarrod strapped his gunbelt on and donned his coat. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you, Sheriff. You're a good man. You deserve better than what I've handed you."

The Sheriff shook his head. "I didn't do anything I'd have done differently – and I suspect you feel the same way."

Jarrod nodded.

"Go home with your family," Sheriff Fain said. "Heal. You have a lot of life left ahead of you."

Jarrod nodded again, and then held his hand out. "Best of luck to you, Sheriff."

Sheriff Fain shook his hand. "And to you."

Jarrod went out into the street, carrying his gear. He saw Heath leading his own horse and the horse Jarrod had come in on toward the hotel. He did not yet see his mother, sister, or Nick. The women were probably packing their things, Nick was getting the rig he brought his mother and sister in on.

Jarrod met Heath in front of the hotel and began to put his things on his horse. Faithful horse, to carry him all this way, looking as patient and obedient as ever. Jarrod ran his hand over the horse's neck.

Heath said, "Nick will take mother and Audra to Modesto and home on the train. They'll probably beat us there by a few hours. I'll ride with you. We ought to be home by tomorrow evening."

Jarrod nodded.

"You want to eat before we go?"

Jarrod shook his head no.

Victoria and Audra came out the hotel then, their carpetbags in hand. Nick still had not appeared with the wagon, but he shouldn't take much longer.

Victoria came to Jarrod's side and embraced him. He returned it. "Thank you for sticking by me," he said.

"I will always stick by you," she said. "We all will. Will you be all right riding home with Heath? We can't take the horses on the train, after all."

Jarrod nodded and looked into his mother's eyes. "I am sorry, Mother, for all of it."

She touched his cheek. "We can sort things out more when we get home."

Heath said, "Nick's coming now."

In a moment, Nick pulled up in the wagon. Heath loaded the luggage up while Jarrod helped his mother and sister into the rig. Then he mounted his horse.

Nick said, "We'll see you at home."

Jarrod nodded as Heath mounted his horse. Since they were not going by way of Modesto, they all parted company then and there. As Victoria watched Jarrod and Heath ride out of town on in a different direction than she, Audra and Nick were going, she could not help but worry again. Jarrod had a lot of healing to do. She wasn't sure any of her children were aware of how much.

EPILOGUE

Jarrod and Heath talked a little on the way home, but mostly about how Heath had been right in his advice, not about how Jarrod felt about anything that had happened. Heath noted how, when they camped overnight, Jarrod took the first watch and then did not sleep much after Heath took over. Overall, it was a very uneventful ride, but not one like Heath had ever taken with Jarrod before. Heath understood, but he was still uneasy about it.

Late in the afternoon on the next day, Audra came running down the stairs in the house. "Mother! They're home!"

Victoria had been reading in the parlor but hurried to get up at the sound of Audra's voice. They went outside and found Jarrod and Heath dismounting outside the barn, where Nick was taking their horses, smiling all the while. Victoria and Audra hurried over and hugged both of them.

"Welcome home," Victoria said to Jarrod.

He smiled a little. "Thank you, Mother. It's good to be home."

Nick had a workhand take care of the horses, and they all went inside. Wearily, Heath left his hat on a table inside the front door; Jarrod's had gone missing when he was shot and he did not yet have another, but he didn't even seem to notice it. Jarrod still had his heavier jacket on; he did not remove it, but stood looking around the foyer, as if it were the first time he had ever been here.

"Dinner is still a few hours away," Victoria said. "Are either of you hungry?"

"No, thank you, Mother," Jarrod said. "I'd rather get out of these clothes and clean up a bit."

"I'll have Silas draw you a bath."

"No, I'll save that for tomorrow. Just some fresh water to wash up and shave with."

"There's already fresh water in your basin."

Jarrod gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and climbed the stairs.

Victoria turned toward Heath. "How was he on the trip home?"

"Quiet," Heath said. "I didn't ask him any questions. It's gonna take him a while to work things out."

"Yes," Victoria said.

"He'll do it, Mother," Nick said. "Don't worry."

But she was worried.

Long after dinner, when she had expected everyone to be in bed, Victoria found Jarrod sitting alone in front of the empty fireplace in the parlor, staring into nothingness. He had removed the bandage around his head. The gouge where the bullet put a furrow in the side of his forehead was visible but healing.

Victoria quietly joined him, touching his back as she passed him. He looked up, those blue eyes still grey, still very strange.

"Don't you think you should get some rest?" she asked and sat down on the coffee table in front of him.

"I will," he said without a smile, looking back into the nothingness in the fireplace.

"Nick said something about having you work the herd with him and Heath tomorrow. He picked up a new hat for you in town."

Jarrod nodded. "He gave me the hat. I told him I'd join them with the herd."

"Good. I think it will help. Good, hard physical labor helps."

Jarrod nodded.

"Making plans helps, too."

Jarrod glanced up at her. He hadn't thought about any plans. The future was still lost in a fog to him. He didn't know what to say.

"Well," Victoria said and got up. "I'll say good night."

She touched his back again as she started away, but he looked over his shoulder. "Mother, wait a moment."

She came back. "Yes?"

"Do you remember a while back, when I went up to - to talk to that Matthews woman, and I was hurt and could not remember who I was?"

Victoria nodded.

Jarrod said, "I thought a lot about that while I was in jail. While I was going through that back then – while I was trying to find out who I was, I saw a priest and when he asked if he should pray for me, I realized I didn't want him to. I realized that I not only didn't know WHO I was; I didn't know WHAT I was, and I was afraid of the answer to that. After it was over, I thought about it, and I had to admit that deep down, even though I didn't know who I was, I did know that – the man who came out of me and murdered Cass Hyatt was part of WHAT I was. I knew then what I know now – that I could be a cold blooded murderer."

Victoria swallowed. "Jarrod – "

"No, Mother, don't tell me I wasn't myself. I was. I was that part of me that I knew was there even when I didn't know my name. That man is part of me. I pray he won't come back, but he may. Someday, he may."

Victoria touched his hand. "If he does – make him remember that he is not alone, and that there are people near to him that love him – even THAT him."

Jarrod smiled a little. He did not love himself, right now not any of himself, but how could he tell her that? He had no idea she already knew.

She went on upstairs, leaving him there alone. She worried wordlessly, but almost as badly as she worried when he slugged Nick and left the house alone a week earlier.

In the morning, when she came down to breakfast, all her children were up and waiting for her, except for Jarrod. "Good morning," she said first, but it was quickly followed by, "Has anyone seen Jarrod this morning?"

Nick shook his head as he poured some coffee for his mother. "Not yet. We thought we'd let him sleep. He needs it."

Heath said, "We'll be out all day in the south pasture. You can send him on out when he's up and ready."

Victoria sat down and they said grace together before she began to drink the coffee. She told herself she could not overreact every time Jarrod was out of her sight. He needed time. He did not need a hovering mother.

"Mother, I thought I would visit with the Marshalls today," Audra said. "Catherine is due in only a couple weeks. Would you like to come with me?"

"I think I will just relax today," Victoria said. "Traveling is a little more tiring for me than it used to be."

Silas came in from the parlor suddenly, carrying a folded paper and an envelope. He looked alarmed. "Mrs. Barkley, I just found this in the library." He gave it to her.

"What is it, Silas?" she asked, and then she saw it and knew.

A note. From Jarrod. And an envelope, addressed to the California State Bar.

Victoria began to read. "Oh, my God – "

"What is it?" Nick asked.

Victoria covered her mouth with her free hand as she read the note. She looked up at Nick in tears. "He's gone."

Nick jumped up and took the note. "What do you mean, gone?"

Nick read the note.

"What does it say?!" Audra cried.

Nick took a deep breath and read it out loud. "Dear Mother. Please forgive me for this, but I don't know any other way to say it. Because of what I've done, I have to resign from the bar. My letter of resignation is in the envelope with this note.

"I love you and will always be grateful for the love you, Audra, Nick and Heath have shown me throughout this nightmare, but I will also always live with the shame and the guilt of what I've done, despite what the jury found. I cannot find a way to live with it if I stay there at the ranch where I've known only love and kindness, when I cannot show that love and kindness to myself. Don't worry. I have no plans to harm myself or anyone else, only to find a way to live in peace with myself again. When I do, I will find my way home. Please post my letter to the bar. Until we meet again, all my love, Jarrod."

"Where could he have gone?" Audra asked.

"We'll find him," Nick said, giving the letter back to his mother.

"No," she said.

Her children were dumbstruck.

"No," she said again, more quietly. The tears were easing off. "Ever since he was a little boy, Jarrod always went off to find his own way when he was hurt or confused. He needed time and space to think. Nick, you would stomp around everywhere and make everyone furious until you worked your way through whatever was bothering you. Audra, you'd cry and come to me within an hour or two, but Jarrod – Jarrod always went off by himself and stayed away, no matter how long it took. Sometimes it was for days, and we'd search for him but we never once found him. He always – had to think it out and come home on his own. He has to come back to us on his own now."

"Mother, this is different," Nick started.

"No," she said quickly. "No, it's only – bigger. He's only bigger. No. He has to come back to us on his own. Let him go."

Nick and Heath looked at each other. They did not like it, but there it was, and when it came right down to it, they had no idea where they would look for him anyway. Nick closed his eyes and turned away from the table.

"Audra," Victoria said, almost in a trance, handing her the envelope. "When you get to town, will you post this letter?"

Victoria then got up from the table and went to the buffet to get some food. She sat down to eat, but as she did, she only stared straight ahead.


End file.
